Really Short Random Thoughts
by MSCSIFANGSR
Summary: New collection of random drabbles. GSR based with original characters from the show. Each drabble is a separate story. 5 Stories per chapter; 100 Stories total. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Really Short Random Thoughts  
AUTHOR: Chauncey10 aka MSCSIFANGSR  
PAIRING: Sidle-Grissom  
RATING: M, although each drabble is not technically M, there are many that are.  
SUMMARY: This is a new collection of random drabbles. GSR but to include original characters.  
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with them.  
NOTES: I asked 20 friends each for 5 different prompts in which to base this randomness.  
WORD COUNT: Each drabble is 100 words. None are related. Every one of them is a separate story; could be funny, violent, smutty, fluffy, casefile, romantic, songfic or any other figment of my imagination. And timeline is rather flexible and canon, it's very fluid.  
SPOILERS: Every show aired in the U.S. to date.

* * *

Chapter One

Prompts from JellyBeanChiChi: needle, washing machine, hoodie, cartoon and disposal.

* * *

There were fresh **needle** marks all over the victim's body. Sara photographed each pin-prick, while inventorying each of the invading holes on the dead woman lying before her.

David Phillips was waiting for her to finish so he could get the body to the morgue. Sara could feel his impatience as she noted him checking his watch for the fifteenth time in the last 90 seconds, finally she looked up at him.

"You have somewhere to be?"

"Ummm, yeah. I've got a date, after shift."

"Congratulations." She flashed him her 1000 watt smile.

David couldn't help but return it.

* * *

"**Washing machine** smut?"

"Yeah, I can think of at least 3 off the top of my head."

"Sara, you really want to have sex on top of the washing machine because you read a couple of fan fiction stories on the internet based on your favorite television show?"

"Yeah."

She removed his belt and passed her hand over his burgeoning erection. His cock twitched in anticipation. Grissom pulled her closer, capturing her lips with his.

Their passion was only intensitified as the machine agitated beneath his butt.

He thought maybe there was something to the idea after all.

* * *

The person's face was obscured by the **hoodie**. They had re-watched the video of the attack several times, still unable to discern anything as to the identity of the perpetrator.

The woman was pulled from her car and repeatedly pistol whipped across the face and head, while the victim punched and scratched at her attacker in useless defense.

Ribbons of the victim's blood showed up black on the grainy screen before them.

A single tear rolled down Sara's face.

"Come on, there's nothing more to see on this." Grissom flicked off the video and lead Sara toward the door.

* * *

They watched the images of an old **cartoon** flicker across the television screen, as they cuddled together on the couch.

"That one must be old, I don't think I've ever seen that particular episode before."

"I remember it vividly: we got our first color t.v. when I was 10. I remember being so excited about Saturday morning cartoons."

"You were excited about something other than bugs?" Sara smirked.

He softly hummed the familiar theme song, then his tongue traced the outer portion of her ear. "I'm excited right now."

She shifted closer to him feeling his arousal, "Imagine that."

* * *

_You'd think a man with as much education as I have would know better than to get his hand stuck inside a garbage **disposal**._

__

It was HER fault. How could a woman with as much knowledge, beauty and common sense not remember to take off her engagement ring before washing the dishes.

"Sara!"

Her voice was at his ear instantly. "You bellowed?"

"Little help, here?"

They managed to slip his hand out without amputation. After cleaning his hand and the ring with a towel, he turned to her, poised the ring over her finger.

"Marry me."

* * *

To be continued...Reviews appreciated...:)

Daily chapter updates...20 total chapters


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimers et al. See first Chapter.

Prompts from ProWriter11: Peaches, steak, air conditioner, penis ring, and prickly heat.

* * *

"I've always heard that the best **peaches** were grown in Georgia." Grissom couldn't believe they were arguing over something so mundane.

He hated the taste of peaches, springing from an incident from his childhood when he and his cousin happened upon an orchard of peaches, while exploring the woods near his uncle's home. The two 8 year olds had eaten peaches until both puked. And then puked some more. And did it again.

The thought of eating one now, nauseated him.

"No, I'm telling you , they are grown in California." Sara smirked as she bit into the full ripeness.

* * *

What Gil Grissom really wanted to order was a **steak**.

Yeah, a big, fat, juicy, sirloin or a rare T-bone or a filet.

But he was on a date with a co-worker who was a vegetarian. She wasn't just someone from work. Sara Sidle was the woman that he'd been secretly or not so secretly in love with for years. She was so much more.

She didn't eat meat. Because she'd sat with him and watched a pig rot. It didn't bother him at all, he could eat anything.

So he ordered the grilled portabella mushrooms instead.

* * *

In Las Vegas when the **air conditioner **goes out in one's automobile in the middle of July as the heat inched toward the all time high of 117 degrees, it was considered a bad omen.

Sara drove to work anyway, over heated with windows down, hair blown, gritty, and was more than a little irritated.

Walking toward the showers in order to cool down, she noticed her boss already in his office. Sara couldn't stop the tightness in her chest when she noted he was not alone.

The tall blonde sat almost in his lap.

Bad omens indeed, she thought.

* * *

His flight had been delayed by a **penis ring**.

Yes, a man wearing a metal cock ring had tried to go through security and pass undetected. Homeland Security was not amused.

"But we were only going to join the mile high club." The man's explanation hadn't helped his cause, as the Federal agents lead the man toward the interrogation area.

Grissom immediately thought of Sara when the infamous society was mentioned and felt his own cock stir.

In approximately 5 hours he'd be back in Vegas. Then he'd know if she would allow him back in her bed.

* * *

"I just can't believe the baby could get **prickly heat**, now in the winter. She was born in the middle of summer in the rainforest, she should have developed an immunity to it, don't you think?"

"Sara, there is no immunity to diaper rash."

"We should have used some of the over-the-counter ointments."

"Sara, Alaia is a perfect child, with a bit of redness on her bottom. It's okay. Don't worry. Having diaper rash is not a blemish on your motherhood record." Grissom took the three month old, nestling her in his arm, then leaned over and kissed his wife.

* * *

To be continued...Reviews appreciated....:)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimers et al see Chapter One

Prompts from CSIGeekFan: cat, battleship, black, dog and psychology.

* * *

"That is the **cat **I want." His tone was no nonsense. Sara recognized the 'boss' quality to it. However, they weren't at work so she could argue a bit with him.

"But Grissom, she is pregnant." Sara pointed to the yellow tabby in the cage at the local animal shelter.

"And?"

"You want to adopt a pregnant cat? Bruno is already going to stroke out with a cat moving in with us, but one that is going to have a litter soon? Are you crazy?"

His blue eyes were full of mischief, "I married you, didn't I?"

* * *

"You sank my **battleship**." Greg's voice sounded a bit hurt.

He noticed Grissom's bewildered expression. He felt he needed to push the subject, even if Grissom chose to ignore it.

"Greg, I know the game. What is your point of reference?" Sternly, he looked at Greg from his kneeling position over a dead body. The insect activity captured all of Grissom's attention.

"I thought I had a chance with her, you know. I never did, she wanted you. Go after her. She needs you."

"I know, Greg. Soon."

"Really?"

Grissom smiled; Greg went back to work.

* * *

Sara stood before her lover clad only in **black **lingerie.

No words were spoken. He took her into his arms, planted kisses along her jaw line. Grissom's hands roamed beneath the silk panties for a moment, then roamed upward and unhooked the bra. It came off effortlessly when he carried her to bed.

He shed his boxers; Sara pulled off her remaining underwear.

His body covered her's in an instant; his dick slid home in a grunt.

Their bodies moved together in an age old dance; slowly building to orgasm.

They came together, then fell asleep within the other's arms.

* * *

"Why did you name your **dog** 'Hank'?"

The boxer was playfully sniffing her while she sat on the couch next to Grissom.

"You remember Hank Goldbloom?" Sara shook her head. "The head of the Forensic Academy," he prompted.

"The man who asked you to speak at the conference where we met?"

Grissom smiled, "Hank was a thanks for speaking at that conference."

"You've had him as long as you've known me?"

"Yeah."

"Why is this the first time Hank and I have met then?"

She had a point, but he couldn't answer her question.

* * *

"There's a term for that, Warrick; and I believe I saw it once in a **psychology **textbook when I was in college." Sara laughed and smiled at him.

Brown stuck his tongue at her before turning his back to continue with his work. The two had worked a murder of a mechanic, without any leads. They'd decided to do a scene recreation to hopefully see something they hadn't at the scene.

A sudden thought went through his head. "Hey Sara?"

The cover-all clad Sara looked up.

"It's not as bad as you having an affair with our boss."

_Busted._

* * *

To be continued...Reviews are appreciated...:)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimers et al see Chapter One

Prompts from Smacky30: perfume, heaven, nap, coffee and shoes.

* * *

Sara dabbled the **perfume** behind her ear, then between her breasts.

He loved watching her dress for their nights out together. It felt so liberating just to be able to go out, eat dinner, perhaps dance, without worrying about whether someone from work would see them out together.

She looked absolutely lovely tonight in her little black dress.

"I'm ready," she practically purred as she helped him finish with his tie.

"You're sure you want to go out? I mean, we could stay here and see if anything else popped up," Grissom smirked.

"Come on, let's go, Stud."

* * *

_I'm in **heaven**, I'm in heaven_

_I'm in heaven, when you smile_

_When you smile, when you smile_

_When you smile. When you walk_

_Across the road You make my heart go_

_Boom-boom-boom_**

Grissom sang along with the old song as he parked the Denali at the latest crime scene.

Funny how the lyrics to songs could mimic one's own life.

Sara was walking across the road to his SUV with a big smile on her face, just for him and his heart was going boom-boom-boom.

It was then he realized for the first time that he loved her.

* * *

**Jackie Wilson Said' by Van Morrison, _Saint Dominic's Preview_, 1972.

* * *

"Didn't have your **nap** today?" Catherine stood before him with her hands upon her hips.

"Pardon me?"

"You heard me, Gil Grissom. You're not playing well with others tonight; pissing off your employees is not the way to become 'Supervisor of the Year', not that you ever stood a chance at that anyway."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sara Sidle, the tall brunette that works for you?" He look was scathing. "Aaah, you know her. What happened this time?"

"Nothing." He stopped her before she could say another word. "Now get out of my office."

* * *

Albert Robbins never drank his **coffee** without first promptly measuring precisely one teaspoon of sugar, and one of creamer. And as he stirred it, he considered Grissom's question.

"Well, when I asked Judy to marry me, I didn't get down on one knee if that's what you're asking." He tapped his crutch on one of his prosthetic legs.

"I want to do it right, Al." Grissom explained.

"Gil, when the moment is right between you and Sara, you'll know it. It doesn't have to be some big production. Do it when you really want to tell her you love her."

* * *

It was something that no one else knew about Gil Grissom. He hated wearing **shoes**.

Sara became suspicious soon after they first starting sleeping with each other.

The minute he walked into her apartment, he took off his shoes; when she appeared at his door, he would always be shoeless. Any time not spent on the LVPD's time clock, he spent barefooted.

When she finally confronted him about his unusual behavior, he just nodded and simply said, "Shoes hurt my feet."

That's when she decided to learn everything she could about giving a foot massage, proper techniques and pressure.

* * *

To be continued...Reviews appreciated...:)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimers et al see Chapter One

Prompts from Sidle77: sheep, trauma, remote control, phone and wicked.

* * *

_Counting **sheep** just doesn't seem to work._

That's when Jim Brass thought of the perfect answer to his insomnia.

_Grissom and a long technical description._

Brass dialed Grissom's home number on the off chance that Grissom might still be working. This wasn't work related. And he used his home phone because he knew Grissom had caller id, and if he called from his cell, then he might think it was business related.

"Hello?" Sara Sidle's sleepy voice startled him; he immediately hung up without comment. Then he smiled when he realized the implications, before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Nick, the baseball bat found in the yard, did you use ALS on it?"

"Yes. No blood."

"Did you swab it for DNA? Our victim died from blunt force **trauma **to the head."

"Should be running now."

"Fingerprints?"

"Running through CODIS."

"Good Job, Nick. When you get the results, I'll be in my office. I need to make a call to a friend in San Francisco."

"That's great Grissom, but I didn't know you had friends."

"Ha-ha-ha."

"Really Griss, I got this lady friend, who's older than me. You might like…"

Grissom left the new CSI without comment.

* * *

"Give me the damn **remote control**!" Sara screamed.

Grissom looked at his heavily pregnant wife and gave up the remote without a fight.

Grissom watched C-SPAN religiously.

"I don't see how you can watch that. It's driving me crazy."

She changed the channel and began watching a soap opera on the local CBS channel.

Grissom got up from the couch, but was stopped by her voice.

"You can't sit here and watch this show with me?" She sneered.

"I'm getting you a cold glass of soy milk. You always want one when you're watching it."

"I love you."

* * *

Sara dusted for prints on the **phone** on the desk next to the dead body Grissom was processing.

They hadn't worked together in a long time, but no one else was available that evening.

Neither CSI had spoken since they'd arrived separately to the crime scene. Even the detective in charge of the investigation dared not say a word when the two were in full geek-mode.

They worked effortlessly around the other; it was like dancing, the way their movements were coordinated, synchronized. Both appeared to ignore the other, but each was more than aware the other worked inches away.

* * *

"You have a **wicked** streak in you, Gilbert."

"Yeah, but you love it." He looked up at her from between her thighs, his tongue having trailed up one of her long legs.

"Yes, I do."

Grissom had covered her whole body with whipped cream, melted chocolate, nuts, strawberries, bananas and pineapples. And he was taking his sweet time with his personal banana split.

Sara was very frustrated. "Couldn't we just jump in the shower and wash it all off?"

"What's the fun in that, dear?" He questioned, seriously.

"Shower sex."

"I like the way you think, Mrs. Grissom."

* * *

To be continued....Reviews appreciated...:)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimers et al. See first Chapter.

Prompts from SeattleCSIFan: butterscotch pudding, peppermint tea, cocoa-butter body cream, garden hose, and woodstove.

* * *

The substance on the dead body looked suspiciously like **butterscotch pudding **to the rookie CSI.

When Grissom asked the former lab-rat his opinion on the case, Greg replied, "…just like my Nana Olaf used to make me when I was a kid. The color and consistency are right."

Grissom leaned down a swabbed left-over residue of the substance.

"So, why do you think it was on our victim?" Grissom asked, professionally.

"Well, the victim was eating dinner when he was shot, according to witnesses, maybe his dessert splattered on him when he died."

"Good observation." Grissom conceded.

Greg smiled.

* * *

Sara Sidle nervously sat in the café near her apartment, sipping **peppermint tea** out of a disposable cup.

HE was supposed to meet her there.

HE gave a lecture tonight on a double murder in a garage.

HE was supposed to be boring.

HE had the sexiest blue eyes she'd ever seen.

Gil Grissom stood outside the café in the breezy San Francisco evening, trying to gain enough courage to walk inside.

SHE was in there.

SHE had been an active participant in his lecture.

SHE was very inquisitive.

SHE gave him ideas that had nothing to do with forensics.

* * *

Grissom rubbed the **cocoa-butter body cream **over Sara's expanded belly. Her moans of pleasure as his hands glided over her taunt skin aroused him.

It was so hot in their tent. The humidity was nothing like the heat of the desert.

"You don't think I know what you're thinking?" Sara purred.

He looked lost for a moment, then playfully responded, "What am I thinking?"

"Will it hurt the baby?"

Grissom didn't answer as he continued smoothing the cream over her stomach. He leaned in, kissing her gently on the lips, allowing his hand to roam lower.

* * *

If she hadn't been so livid over the fact that he'd assigned her to work the perimeter, again, she would have missed finding the murder weapon.

Sara had sat down on a piece of lawn furniture and stared off at nothing in particular, trying to re-collect her thoughts.

Her gaze flitted over all the objects in the yard: a coiled **garden hose**, an upturned bicycle, a grill, the table and comfortable chairs. Her eyes went back to the grill.

__

Something's not right.

She got up, then opened the top, and found a Smith & Wesson .357, missing three rounds of ammunition.

* * *

The antique **wood-stove **sat in the corner of the room.

There were layers of dust in the dilapidated cabin. The two CSI's combed through it searching for any evidence of recent occupation.

"I'm not finding anything, are you?" Grissom's voice echoed a bit in the room.

"Something might be in the stove." Sara wrinkled her nose, as she opened the hinged door , she found the skeletal remains of a small animal.

Grissom looked inside, "Might be a raccoon, or a large pocket mouse."

"It's certainly not what I wanted for dinner."

"We're still on for that, aren't we?"

* * *

To be continued...Reviews appreciated...:)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from LosingInTranslation: mallard, impressions, scout, commencement, and gingerbread.

* * *

"What was that noise?" Sara inquired when she walked into his study.

"'Duck's Unlimited's website. I was reading about the _anas platyrhynchos_ and clicked on 'click here to listen'."

"A duck?" She questioned.

"A **mallard**. The female is especially vocal..." She quit listening as he quoted from the computer screen. Sara stood, hands on her hips, staring at him.

"Well, you were especially vocal this morning while we were in bed."

"Ass."

"What? You were." He stood and took her into his arms. "I think I can make you do it again." Then they began to kiss.

* * *

"The dead guy did **impressions**?" Brass' tone was sharper than Gil had heard in years.

"Well, this is Vegas." The suspect answered without answering the detective's question. "He worked for a time as a lounge act. When he did Elvis or Frank or even Liberace, you thought they were still kicking, you know. Damn he was good. Not as good as that Gagnon dude at the Venetian, but still…"

Grissom got up and looked down at the man, "Well, he's not kicking anymore and the evidence places your DNA and fingerprints in the victim's vehicle."

"I want a lawyer."

* * *

"You were a boy **scout**, Hodges?" Sara tried not to laugh as those words left her mouth.

"Actually no, the scout master in my hometown was my mother's first ex-husband. So, she didn't want me around him."

"How many times was your mother married?" Sara's interest perked up.

"4." Hodges said so quietly Sara almost didn't hear his reply.

"Which was your dad?"

"The second one. Can we, ugh…get back to the evidence?" David Hodges blushed and went back to his microscope. "I didn't mean to imply a knowledge that I don't have first hand."

"S'okay."

* * *

As Sara Sidle walked through Harvard Yard on her way to the **commencement **exercises, she tried to contain her enthusiasm. After a grueling undergraduate study program, she was finally leaving Boston for good.

It wasn't that she hated it there, she was just so lonely and was happy to be going back home to California. And her bags were packed; what she didn't keep, she'd sold and her old clunker of might make the 3100 mile journey before it fell apart completely.

She just knew that something good was going to happen to her at Berkley and she couldn't wait.

* * *

It was a slow shift. Sophia and Greg were helping day-shift sort through some garbage. She and Grissom were sitting in the break room.

Sara snacked on **gingerbread **cookies and juice while he read a journal while occasionally sipping his coffee.

"Do you have anymore cookies?" His question startled her.

"Sure. Want one?"

He nodded, reaching for her offered cookie. Their fingers brushed with the exchange.

"Did you know gingerbread was first brought to Europe during the Crusades and can be dunked into port wine?"

"Grape juice, not wine." Sara smiled.

"I know, Sara." He smiled back.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…: )


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from Toothchick: smurf, lemon, bread, sequins and pink.

* * *

Grissom found an inch and half blue plastic figurine on the floor underneath the victim after the coroner bagged the body.

He studied the evidence with an intent gaze before David Phillips broke his concentration, "It's a **Smurf**."

"Thank you. Actually, I knew that."

David looked at him over his glasses that had slipped down his nose during the body transfer. "I loved watching that show."

"Well, 'Brainy' you might want to get that body to 'Papa Smurf,' don't you think?"

"Okay, 'Grouchy'." David grinned at Grissom and pointed to Sara. "Don't keep 'Smurfette' out too late."

* * *

_The acid in the **lemon** neutralizes the amines in fish by converting them into nonvolatile ammonium salts_, Grissom thought as he squeezed the fresh juice over the halibut he was cooking himself for a solitary dinner.

_I really should think about something more interesting than science._

_I can think about Sara._

_I wonder if she'd eat this fish with me or would the fish burn because we'd be too busy on my couch tangled together, hastily removing our clothes?_

Deciding he should go for it, he called her.

She'd be there in thirty minutes, so he turned off the fish.

* * *

"You growing your own penicillin, now?"

"No, why?" Grissom looked up over his reader glasses at the woman standing before him.

Catherine smiled. "You can't prove that by me," pointing to the black molded **bread** sitting in a sandwich bag on his cluttered desk.

"That was my lunch a few days ago." Grissom returned his attention to the paperwork he'd been working on before she'd interrupted him.

"The gang's going to eat at the diner. You love that place. And Sara's going," she added as if an afterthought, but she knew it was the selling point.

* * *

"Greg is going to freak when he hears this," laughed Warrick Brown as he and Sara made their way up the stairwell to the first floor of the Crime Lab. They'd been in the morgue discussing the cause of death in their latest case.

"I'm not telling him." Sara smirked.

"He'll find out about it and he'll be pissed we didn't tell him ourselves." Warrick reasoned.

"Okay, you tell Greg. I'm going to Grissom's office."

"You tell Griss our transvestite died from asphyxiation from ingestion of **sequins** and I tell Greg?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Kiss ass."

"Um-huh."

* * *

They were investigating the death of a young woman who'd last been seen alive at a **Pink** concert at the Hard Rock Casino and Hotel. She had been found by a valet, the next morning, dead partially underneath the car he'd been retrieving.

The tox report had come back clean with no drugs or alcohol noted in her system. COD had been a single blow to the right occipital region. The owner of the car, a tourist from Missouri, was a dead end. No evidence at the scene or on the body.

Grissom and Sidle closed the case as unsolved.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…:)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from JenStogner: storage ottoman, bubble gum, baby monitor, florist, addictions.

* * *

Nick Stokes was down on his knees collecting pieces of broken glass.

Sara watched him painstakingly pick up each shard with tweezers, place them in evidence bags and line the bags up sequentially.

"Did you check that **storage ottoman **for evidence before you started using it for evidence layout?"

Nick looked up, "I swabbed for blood. Storage? How can you tell?"

"I have one. If my place is a mess, if someone comes to my door, all I have to do is shove all my junk in and voila, clean house."

Laughing, he replied, "You have company?"

* * *

Grissom watched Mia run tests on a wad of **bubble gum**.

He enjoyed the new found tranquility in the lab. "You seem to be adjusting to routine pretty quickly."

Mia shrugged, "Can I ask you a question?" He nodded. "How strict is the non-fraternization policy between co-workers?"

"Is your problem with Greg?"

"No, but there is someone I'm interested in, personally."

"If it's not supervisor/employee, it's not really an issue."

"If it were?"

"Immediate termination."

_So, that's why you and Sara don't_...She thought, _but doesn't rule out a relationship between Warrick and myself_.

* * *

The first month, his noticed the nausea Sara experienced through-out the day.

He said nothing.

The second month, the empty box from a pregnancy test in the garbage.

He still said nothing.

The third month, his final clue had been the **baby monitor **on the bedside table.

Now he had to say something,

He wondered why Sara hadn't come right out and told him.

"Sara honey, are we finally pregnant?"

She laughed, "You're just now putting all the clues together? Good thing you retired, a good CSI would never have had taken so long to figure things out."

* * *

They'd been called to a hit and run, with injury on private property at a **florist** on East Bonneville Avenue.

Seems a car had busted into the shop, run over the owner, then reversed, and left the scene leaving utter destruction in it's wake.

The victim was being loaded into the ambulance by Hank Pettigrew when Grissom and Sara arrived at the scene.

"It's been a while since I saw you."

"Yeah, last time was the same situation, only you were a victim."

"I'm really sorry."

"It's alright. I've moved on," she said, sneaking a smile in Grissom's direction.

* * *

"This is not about my **addictions**." The suspect leaned back in the chair, splaying his hands across the opaque surface of the table in interrogation room number 4. "I do some coke, maybe smoke a little weed, but I'm not here for that, am I?"

"No. Three dead bodies." Grissom replied.

"Who?"

"Alexis, Charles and Eric Whittington."

"How?"

"Shot with a handgun registered in your name."

"I didn't do it if that's what you want to know."

The suspect and his lawyer listened to the evidence.

"Any chance of a lesser charge?" The lawyer bargained.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…: )


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from KeeganElizabeth: fringe, collections, see-through, pirate, alone.

* * *

There had been women on the **fringe **of his life before Sara and even a couple after he realized he could never have the one he loved.

He thought of Heather Kessler, Charlotte Ross, Dr. Jane Gilbert, Terri Miller. They were good women, but not enough.

He'd even slept with the waitress Nicole a few times. She worked at the back alley club where he liked to play poker. But as much as he liked Nicole, she wasn't Sara.

And that fact was what finally pushed him into Sara's arms.

He quit playing poker; Sara was more than enough risk.

* * *

Mike Keppler wondered about the man who he had yet to meet, but who seemed to come between him and other members of the nightshift. The man's **collections** were just plain weird. The man was a legend in their field. The things in his office were bizarre, making the man suspect in his eyes.

Sara interrupted his investigation of Grissom's office.

After he left, he realized Grissom wasn't so strange after-all; merely a lucky son of a bitch if he was bedding the pretty CSI. He knew by the way she'd defended him.

It surprised him, no one else knew.

* * *

Grissom was shocked when he looked up from the case files to see Sara enter his office, wearing a gauzy **see-through **gown and nothing else.

He noticed her hard nipples and the triangular patch of dark hair that stood in stark contrast to the sheer material.

His cock stirred and hardened.

Then he panicked.

"My God, Sara. Someone might see you like that."

She walked seductively toward him.

"Shhh," she admonished, "We're not at work."

He gratefully realized they weren't at the crime lab, but at home in his study.

Her touch trailed over his chest, igniting his passion.

* * *

Gil knew Riley Adams was the perfect fit to his crew. The guys would accept her without prejudice as long as she could do the job. And she could according to her splendid recommendations. She was well qualified.

If only he could find another CSI, then he could go.

He was going to do it: up the ante, like he'd told Catherine. Steal away like a **pirate** in the night and go collect his booty. Not that Sara would like would like that analogy but he did want to plunder her again and again.

_Very soon, dear. _He silently promised.

* * *

Sara sat **alone** in the diner long after the others had left, sipping her seventh cup of coffee.

They'd all had something else to do: Catherine, to pick up Lindsey; Nick, a doctor's appointment; Greg, a date and Warrick went home to his wife.

Grissom hadn't shown up; but neither had Brass. Both had excuses: they were interviewing the latest scum bag suspect in the rape-murder of a college co-ed.

She felt the seat give with pressure and a voice suddenly filled her ear.

"Whatcha say we blow this joint, beautiful?"

Grissom helped her stand and they left together.

* * *

To be continued.

This is the half-way mark...Let me know if you are still enjoying these, because I'd hate that I wasted my time when I wrote the other ones and no one was interested...:)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from Wander52: grandfather clock, hedge clippers, power strip, Jell-o jigglers, and tea kettle.

* * *

Both agreed on the first purchase for their new house: a king-sized four poster bed for their master bedroom.

However, Grissom was adamant about the next acquisition. "If we're to have a proper home, we must have a **grandfather clock**."

After it had been delivered and set up, Grissom couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

Sara slipped her arms around her husband, "Thank you Sara, I've always wanted one."

"And I've always wanted one of these," she said as she caressed her extended abdomen.

He kissed her, passionately, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the clock.

* * *

Jim Brass looked down at the text message in complete surprise.

_Murder weapon in McKay case: **hedge clippers**._

He knew he should relay the message to Grissom, since they were working a new case and when Brass looked around, he didn't see his friend. Officer Mitchell was standing sentry on the body; motioned to him that Grissom had gone outside.

Brass walked out of the house and as he rounded the corner to Grissom's Denali, he saw the Grissom embracing another CSI, stroking her back with his broad hands.

"Sorry, but really you lovebirds, let's get back to work."

* * *

Sara determined the cause of the house fire at the mayor's mansion had not been arson as previously suspected but accidental secondary to an overloaded **power strip** in the den.

The Mayor's office had given her high praise for her discovery. It was the first time she received commendation for her work as a CSI. There had been a media announcement in the newspaper, but only one reporter from the paper had shown up and no one else.

Sara wasn't offended by the media slight, but the fact that her boss hadn't bothered to show up, that was an insult.

* * *

"You know what I wish I could have right now?" Sara was sweating, barely dressed. She was sprawled across the two cots they'd joined with rope to form one bed.

She fanned herself with a wet cloth, hoping the heat of the jungle would just magically disappear.

"A bathtub filled with **Jell-O jigglers**?" His was teasing her, but the thought did have a bit of merit. He sat only in his boxers as he looked up from his book to answer her.

"One of those frozen lemonades from that place in mall. Oh, those were so, so cold."

* * *

It never occurred to Sara to wonder why she could sleep curled on her couch better than in her own bed. It was a fantasy she held dear. When she lay with her back tight against the couch, she could image herself beside him; sleeping within Grissom's embrace.

The couch offered no solace, today.

She tossed, she turned. Nothing helped.

She got up and waited impatiently for the **tea kettle **to whistle, hoping the chamomile would help her sleep.

He told a murder suspect what he could not tell her himself.

It hurt, but she vowed to get over him.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…: )


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from SillyforBilly52: stilettos, vision, mustard, golf ball, and green.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of metal clicking and her scent waifing away as he heard the door shut.

Grissom slowly realized he was handcuffed to the headboard of their bed but his legs were free. That he was naked wasn't too surprising since he'd gone to sleep that way.

He fidgeted against the cuffs, but found them secure.

Sara came into the room minutes later, dressing only in a black garter belt, stockings and **stilettos**.

His dick engorged, swelling with blood, springing upward and weeping.

"I thought you'd like this outfit," she purred.

"Oh, yes…" he mumbled.

* * *

He stood frozen in his spot as the soulful voice spilled from his high end sound system and by the **vision** of the woman standing in his living room, looking over his collection of framed butterflies.

_Beautiful vision  
Stay with me all of the time  
Beautiful vision  
Stay ever on my mind._

They eaten dinner and as Sara stood silhouetted in the shadows of the candlelight, he hungered for a more carnal dessert than was awaiting them in his refrigerator.

_In the darkest night  
I said, 'you are shining bright'  
You are my guiding light  
Show me wrong from right.**_

* * *

**'Beautiful Vision' by Van Morrison, _Beautiful Vision_, 1982.

* * *

They lay entwined on her **mustard** colored couch, watching the credits roll on the movie.

"I really loved that guy's blue eyes, Sara said. "Paul Newman was so sexy, wonder if they looked as good in person as they do on television?"

"You've seen mine on t.v. before haven't you…I've done press conferences. I mean, I've been told I have very nice eyes." He tried not to sound jealous of the now deceased famous movie star.

"You have the most beautiful blue eyes that have stared back into mine," she stated as she took his lips with hers.

* * *

"You expect me to lift a print off of a **golf ball**? Grissom, I'm good, but that good? It looks like COD was accidental, why do want to know who's prints are on it?"

"Maybe the perp meant to hit the victim in the head, killing him instantly."

"Give it up, Gil," Jacqui Franco was shaking her head, trying to decide if she could do it.

Grissom started to leave the print lab, but she stopped him, "I heard you met a chick in San Fran, you going back anytime to see her?"

"Maybe," he muttered.

* * *

"There was a **green** icky substance on the gun I found. I'm gonna get it to Hodges." Greg said to Sara as they walked down the hallway.

"Very good, young 'Padawan'."

"I love it when you call me names." Greg smiled, then conspiratorially, "Can I you a question, it's work related?" _Sort of_, he muttered under his breath.

She nodded, "So why doesn't Griss cut you some slack? You're obliviously the best CSI on our shift."

"I disappointed him once."

"But he disappoints you every day and you don't hold it against him. Why not?"

"I can't Greg."

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…: )


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from BeckyCSI: alkaline, requistion, placid, cheese, quail.

* * *

"Dr. Grissom, you're telling the jury the deceased wasn't stabbed and killed by our defendant, is that correct?" ADA Klein sounded incredulous.

"Evidence CSI collected supports the victim was stabbed by the defendant, but the stab wounds were superficial and none life threatening. Delayed tests from our lab determined the victim was killed by **alkaline** poisoning, potassium hydroxide poisoning from an industrial accident."

After the charges of murder had been dismissed, Maddie caught Gil by the sleeve as he attempted to leave the courtroom, "Shit, Gil, why didn't you tell me? Thanks for blowing my case."

"Evidence doesn't lie."

* * *

Ray Langford signed his W2 forms and had finished completing all necessary 'new hire' paperwork in Gil Grissom's office.

"You're leaving, I'm new. So, do I get your office?" Ray laughed.

"Did you fill out a **requisition** for an office form?" Gil deadpanned.

"Really? There's one of those?"

"This is a bureaucracy. When I'm gone, I suppose Conrad or Catherine will determine who gets it."

"You're going to travel?" Grissom nodded. "Where are you going first?"

"Costa Rica," he answered simply.

Ray shrugged his shoulders, "Interesting choice."

"I'm going after the woman I love."

* * *

"The victim's name was Aaron Hebert, from Port Allen, Louisiana. He was a truck driver for **Placid **Refining Company; he transported refined fuels here two times a week. His semi is in the back lot."

Detective Vartann had filled the two CSI's on the identify of the body that had been discovered in a dumpster behind the 'Super 8' on Boulder Highway, then he left the scene to question employees of the motel.

Grissom smiled at Sara, "I guess one of us needs to check his room and the other go over his truck. Flip you for it?"

"Sure."

* * *

"Say **cheese**!" Grissom focused his old film-less Nikon F2 and pressed the shutter button as Sara began to teasingly remove her clothes piece by piece.

"Throw your head back." _Snap._

"Sweep your hand through your hair." _Snap._

"Turn this way a bit." _Snap._

The fantasy had been one of hers: a sexy super-model; handsome photographer; nude portraits leading to a steamy hot love making session.

Grissom wished she'd let him use film just once; he really wanted to capture her raw beauty in black and white.

"Pout your lips." _Snap._

"Touch your breasts." _Snap._

"Spread your ass." _Snap._

_Snap. _

* * *

"Umm, I'm still a vegetarian." Sara looked beautiful but extremely miffed and uncomfortable as she closed her menu.

Grissom used his right hand to tug behind his ear. "I know." He'd been sipping wine, watching her, his menu unopened.

"They serve **quail **and things like: 'toad in a hole', 'bubble and squeak' and 'pie and mash'. All meat."

"This place is a five star 'vegetarian' restaurant according to Google." Then he noticed the subtitle of the establishment on the closed menu in front of him. "Look it says they're "Vegetarian free." I screwed up, Sara. I'm sorry. We'll leave."

* * *

To be continued…These stories are on temporary Hiatus until the writer returns. A real life/death situation has arisen preventing the writer from posting more at this time. She should return within the week.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from SaraSidleGrissom09: lake, condom, popsicle, truck and skinny dip.

A/N: I'd like to thank my daughter, Diane for posting the last several chapters of this story and for copying my reviews and bringing them to me. I had not loaded all of the chapters onto this site before I was unexpectedly hospitalized last week by a tyrant doctor. This is for David for keeping the ticker ticking and for finally letting me go home. Also thanks to all the readers and reviewers. And now, back to the show...:)

* * *

They'd been called to investigate a floater found by a dealer at the Luxor who'd spent his day off fishing. The man hauled in several carpe before hooking a dead man. The dealer called the cops immediately from his cell while still in his small boat in the middle of **Lake** Mead.

Grissom watched as the man attached his boat to the trailer hitch of his truck. "Looks like he's leaving his catch," pointing to the mess of fish near the boat ramp.

Detective Cavaliere hiked an eyebrow, "You think we should stop him?"

"No, let him go."

* * *

O'Riley had seen a lot in 25 years. It took quite a bit to shake his stoic demeanor, but tonight, he threw up at a crime scene.

_I really need to retire_, he thought making the call to CSI to request the two women on the nightshift. It wasn't that he thought the men couldn't do the job, no, he was trying to make it less taxing on the guys.

When the CSI's arrived, he lead them to the dumpster filled with at least five dozen defrosting **condom** covered penises.

He couldn't look again.

"Oh my goodness," Sara exclaimed.

* * *

Gil watched hopelessly as Sara sucked a cherry-flavored **popsicle**.

"Do you know what that does to me, you vixen?" He growled as her tongue skirted up the elongated treat.

He couldn't do anything but groan when she smirked, then allowed it to sink all the way into her mouth. And when she slowly drug it out of her mouth, allowing him to see her tongue swirling around, he lost complete control of himself.

He seized her, kissed her cold lips. Then he grabbed her hand, forcing it on his erection.

"Suck that," he demanded.

And she did.

* * *

He could see Sara's cover-all covered legs dangling from beneath the **truck** they had recovered from the scene of the crime. He wondered if she had anything on beneath the blue jumper.

But then Grissom walked into the garage.

He was asking for an update on the case. Sara rolled out upon hearing their boss' voice and that's when Greg noticed the baby blue shirt peeking out the top.

Sanders had seen his boss' reaction to the way Sara's body slid almost magically from beneath the vehicle.

_Very interesting_, thought Greg. _And we all thought Sara's affections weren't returned_.

* * *

"Interested in going for a **skinny-dip **with me?" He waggled his eyebrows attempting to appear flirtatious before wiping the sweat off his brow.

They had reclaimed the effortlessness of working together. He documented the habits of the female _Papilio machilentus_ butterfly and Sara correlated her raw data on the capuchin monkeys against established norms.

He could tell the high humidity was effecting her, too. But when she grinned, he knew her answer.

A little later, their bodies entwined under the spray of a natural waterfall not far from the camp.

Water splashing around them only added to their pleasure.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…: )


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al see first chapter.

Prompts from BewitchingBella: bicycle, oolong tea, afghan, arresting, and orchid.

* * *

A seven year old boy, who'd been hit and run while riding his **bicycle** near his home, was barely clinging to life as he was rushed to the hospital by ambulance. Witnesses were able to give the boy's name and an accurate description of the car that had hit him.

Grissom went to the hospital to gather evidence from the boy's clothes and to document his injuries.

Sidle worked the case, discovering the make and model of the car and then the owner/driver.

When man was brought to the station, they got word the boy had died in surgery.

* * *

Lady Heather poured the **oolong tea** into the perfect china cup, unobtrusively eyeing her companion who sat quietly in her drawing room.

"The Chinese call this 'black dragon tea' because of it's dark, long and curly leaves. The tale is that it was discovered by a man named Wu Liang by accident when he was distracted by a deer after a hard day's tea-picking, by the time he remembered about the tea it had already started to oxidize."

"You and Gil are very much alike," her guest replied taking a hesitant sip of the tea.

"But he loves you."

* * *

"I recovered something interesting in your case." David Hodges fell into step beside Sara Sidle.

"I'm sure the **afghan** was a veritable treasure trove of trace." The nude body of a young woman had been found wrapped in the blanket underneath a park bench.

"Did you ever notice how much you sound like Grissom?"

Sara only glared at the tech in response. "What did you find?"

"Fragments of 'Cheetos', chocolate milk stains, grass, dirt, sand and a few things I hope I never id but I did pick up some DNA that I sent to Wendy."

"Good job."

* * *

"I heard PD was in the process of **arresting** your suspect." Ecklie wasn't who Sara thought had come up behind her in the break room.

She nodded.

"Is this a good time to talk? Before they bring him in?"

She nodded again.

"Since your suspension, your solve rate has soared, your professionalism has improved and your over-time has been reduced. I wanted to tell you, your efforts are appreciated."

"Does this mean I'm getting a raise?"

"Actually, I was letting you know that I will now be doing your performance evaluations. And yes, you're getting a raise."

* * *

There was a magenta Kauai **orchid **sitting in a clear vase on the bedside table.

It was the only thing in the bedroom that wasn't covered in blood splatter. They determined it was placed there by someone after the murder, who had left shoe tracks of blood through-out the house, leading out the front door, then the xeriscaped lawn obliterated the evidence.

Grissom asked for the blood hounds to pick up the trail and was not disappointed when they found the person dead of an apparent gunshot wound to the temple in the alley close to the original crime scene.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated…: )


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimers et al in Chapter One.

Prompts by Edge15684: margarita, heart, desk, smoke and chips.

* * *

"Why don't we get a **margarita**?" Sara asked as they headed toward the parking garage.

"I could use a _Cheeseburger in Paradise_." The older woman grinned.

"_It's 5 o'clock somewhere_." Sara returned.

As Sara ate her portabella mushroom burger and Catherine her cheeseburger, both sipped those frozen concoctions that helped them to hang on.

After two and a half drinks, Catherine finally broached the subject: "You and Grissom seem to be getting along a lot better than you used to. What gives?"

"We decided to make a conscious effort after Nick was taken. You never know when it's your time."

* * *

Albert Robbins held the eviscerated **heart **in his hand when Gil and the new girl walked in.

There hadn't been any other body parts so he'd taken DNA and tox on the remains and sent them to the appropriate labs.

Sara Sidle asked the right questions; impressed the night shift coroner, then she left to check on the results upstairs.

"So, Gil, what are your intentions with her?"

"Boss-ly ones."

"This is the same Sara you went to see in San Francisco every other weekend for the past year?"

"Yes. Now I get to see her every day."

"Be careful."

* * *

"That's not my fault."

"You're the one who left it out on the **desk**," Grissom accused.

"Grissom, I'm sorry your bug got out of it's cage and ran away from home. I didn't let it go; it escaped. See, look at the chewed out corner?" She pointed to the right corner of the roach's habitat. "I know I was the last person to feed it, but I didn't leave it open." Sara left the room, leaving Grissom in a panic.

Then he heard the hissing noise from behind the computer desk.

He was relieved.

But he was so in the dog house.

* * *

"I would kill to have a **smoke** right about now."

Sara hadn't had a cigarette in years, but the thought of having one sounded wonderful. The case they were working on was driving her nuts.

"For real?" Her shadow Ronnie asked. "I have a pack in the car. Do you want one?"

She nodded.

Soon they were in the young woman's car inhaling the fumes of a Marlboro Light.

Sara sputtered and gagged when the smoke hit her lungs.

She handed the lit cigarette back to Ronnie and said, "Boy, those things can really kill you."

She continued to cough.

* * *

They were in a bar; shots of Scotch disappeared quickly.

The case had really been a bad one.

"What?" Brass yelled over the din noise in the crowded bar.

"Pass me the **chips**," Grissom yelled back.

They were both drunk, but not drunk enough to stop thinking about the manner in which the bodies of the four children, all under the age of ten, had been discovered.

He watched Gil pop a few of the salty potato chips before he excused himself and went to throw up in the men's room. Least he hadn't done it at the crime scene.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al in Chapter One.

Prompts by Durban: beard, first, jealous, shower, and couch.

* * *

Sara stared at the man standing in front of her.

He was just standing there staring at the dog while dressed in plain white boxers and a tight white t-shirt.

His **beard **was close cropped, his muscles stood firm under the fit of his shirt, and she couldn't believe her good luck to be sharing a life with such a wonderful man.

She checked out the outline of his dick in the shorts, smiling to herself, knowing every bit of it was hers.

She couldn't help herself as she continued to stare at him.

He was so damn good looking.

* * *

Grissom remembered his **first** time in Las Vegas.

The 21 year old Gilbert Grissom was playing poker at the Rampart casino and was winning big.

When he started to leave with his winnings, a gun-toting goon asked him to speak to his boss.

They carried him to 'the cooler'; the same concrete room where he later swabbed for evidence in more than a few cases.

Sam questioned him on his luck and Braun realized the young man was naïve and talented. So he recommended another casino as he warned him that he didn't want him back in any of his establishments.

* * *

"Gil?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought about the two of us maybe becoming a threesome?"

He was **jealous**. The mere thought of another man or even a woman touching her in a sexual manner offended him to his core, but if she was interested, then he could at least pretend to be. However, he knew he would never share his woman with anyone.

"Would it be another male or another female?" He bravely asked.

"It wouldn't matter as long as they were healthy." Big pause. "Gil, I'm pregnant."

He was relieved; then worried: _A baby? Oh my God. A baby? _

* * *

Sara had kissed him in front of Hodges then left leaving nothing but a letter. She'd taken all her things from the townhouse.

An inebriated Gil Grissom is standing naked in the **shower**, letting the water drown him as the music carries away whatever vestiges of control he had left.

_If you leave me;  
If you grieve me;  
What will I do without you to see me through?_

_If you hurt me;  
If you desert me;  
What will I do without you to see me through?_

Grissom is crying as the song ends and the CD loops and begins again.

* * *

"What would I do without you?" Van Morrison. _Sense of Wonder_, 1985

* * *

She smiled, watching him sleep with the phone cradled against his chest on the **couch.** He had been worried about her driving home in the rain, so late at night.

Grissom looked so much younger when he slept than she ever could remember him being.

She slipped out of her wet coat and damp clothes, then took the phone out of his hand and settled herself between him and the back of the couch.

He mumbled her name in his sleep, pulled her tight against his chest, but didn't wake up.

Sara was asleep in minutes, safe within his arms.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews appreciated.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al in Chapter One.

Prompts by Sillym3: surfboard, amphetamine, smoldering, velvet, and guru.

* * *

"Have you ever been to England?"

"Once for an entomological conference, but I ended up staying an extra week I became consumed by the Sherlock Holmes tour. You?"

"Summer abroad my junior year at Harvard. Do you want to go Great Britain for our honeymoon?"

"No, I'd rather go somewhere there's a bed, a beach and the only thing you'd need to wear away from either of those place would be a two piece bikini."

"So I'm thinking deserted island in the Pacific…"

"Sounds good."

"Somewhere I could ride my **surfboard**."

"Mmm, in the nude?"

"If you will too."

* * *

Henry walked down the hall of the crime lab with a piece of 8 x 11 ½ inch paper in his hand, looking for Sara Sidle. He found her in the break room drinking a hot cup of tea while thumbing through a magazine.

He sat down beside her and handed her the paper when she looked up at him.

"Your victim had very high levels of **amphetamine** in his system."

"Victims experience psychosis with large doses. Were they that high?" She looked at the report, then theorized, "He was having hallucinations, climbed the telephone pole, slipped, fell and died."

* * *

Black **velvet **paintings lined the walls of the house they were searching for evidence. Catherine found the artwork in bad taste, but couldn't say the work in itself was badly produced.

"Gil, there has to be a reason you want to go to San Francisco again, so soon after getting back from that conference."

"It's for the Powell case." He snapped another picture of the crime scene, trying to get Catherine's mind off of the subject.

"Does it also involve a beautiful woman, by chance?"

"I'll take the bodies, you can take the rest of the house," his voice dismissive.

* * *

Their legs were intertwined as Grissom lay on his side, one arm wrapping Sara tight against his body. His hand supported his head as he looked down into her eyes.

She wore a spaghetti strapped silk nightgown. The body wash she'd used earlier was jasmine, his favorite.

He looked down at her committing this moment to memory.

Their lips were hovering above the other's; their gazes **smoldering** in the low lit room.

She caressed his cheek while he stroked her thigh just below the hem of her gown.

When they finally kissed, they forgot the rest of the world existed.

* * *

_In the garden.  
And I turned to you and said,  
"No **guru**, no method, no teacher."  
Just you and I and nature  
and the father in the garden._

He pulled her close in the garden of the jungle.

He wasn't there as her mentor; nor was there any reason for him to be there other than the fact that she was there. He knew when he'd come upon her, he'd found his missing self.

He kissed her while the monkey watched, her camera still in hand.

They were together; at long last.

If this wasn't true love, nothing was.

* * *

"In the Garden" by Van Morrison. _No Guru, No Method, No Teacher_, 1986.

* * *

To be continued…Reviews are appreciated.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al in Chapter One.

Prompts by CSIGeekfan: princess, bubba monkey ring and solitaire. Thanks for the second set!

* * *

"**Princess**? Do you have a crush on your babysitter, my teaching assistant?" Dr. Gilbert Grissom asked his beautiful and very smart daughter, his first born of three.

"Umm-huh. Harlan is so dreamy."

"You're 7; he's 21."

"The same difference as you and mom."

"That's different. The years are bigger the younger you are. And he's not interested in a child, you're too young for him."

"But daddy, I'm gonna marry him. He'll love me one day when I get older. It'll just take him a while to catch on, like it did with you. Mom said you took forever."

* * *

"Sara?"

"Umm," she robotically answered as she attempted flipping over another pancake.

"Have you ever made pancakes before?"

"Why?"

"Because these are the most asymmetrical pancakes I've ever seen."

"Listen **Bubba**, if you cut them in pieces, pour some syrup all over them, then you'll never know what they looked like when I took them out of the pan."

She placed the last misshapen pancake onto the platter.

Grissom sat at her bar and proceeded to do as she instructed and as he hesitantly took the first bite, he chewed and then he smiled.

"Good idea. These are great, honey."

* * *

Sara hated getting bitched out by Sophia Curtis.

They had never pretended to be friends when they'd worked together.

Sara had a secret and the blonde detective didn't know it. Sara just had been having wild, glorious **monkey** sex with Gil Grissom and that's why she's late for getting to the telephone booth.

_Ha!_

Sara dusted for prints silently.

Sophia reported, "The dead guy was werewolf, his sister is one too. Weird case."

Sara shrugged.

"I'm sorry for sounding bitchy, but you did make me wait here a long time. What was up?"

"Car trouble," she replied without guilt.

* * *

**Ring**…ring.

Ring…ring.

The damn phone wouldn't stop ringing.

It was the lab and he didn't give a shit.

He felt miserable. He missed Sara so much it physically hurt. And he was crushed Warrick had been killed in such a manner.

Ring..

He reached over to get it, but something stopped him.

He was going to work, he just needed to get up, get dressed, put on some shoes. Maybe he should eat.

_Damn it, it's raining outside._

_Lemme go check my email before I head into work._

_Yea! I got something from Sara._

_Shit, she doesn't want me anymore_.

* * *

"That's a **solitaire**."

"Catherine, I can see that," Grissom sounded annoyed. "Sara wouldn't like it."

"Yeah, I'm not sure she'd like any of them. So, why don't you buy her a gift certificate to 'American Eagle Outfitter' as a gesture of love and undying devotion."

"Smart ass. I want her to be my wife, not some sharp dressed co-worker. Where's the romance in that?"

He looked over his reader glasses at Catherine's expression. Then returned his gaze to the counter filled with expensive engagement rings.

"How about that one?" She pointed to a diamond and natural sapphire marquise setting.

"Perfect."

* * *

To be continued…Reviews appreciated.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Really Short Random Thoughts

Disclaimer et al in Chapter One.

Prompts by JellyBeanChiChi: Columbia jacket, rosewater, Argentina, roller derby, and beast. Thanks for the second set! And I started with the Bean, so I'll end with her too.

* * *

The man sat quietly wearing a gray fleece **Columbia jacket** in the interrogation room. You'd never know it by his demeanor, but he'd just assaulted two members of the Las Vegas Metro Police Department.

Detective Vega bore a puffy black eye and small cut above his eyebrow. Gil Grissom had a broken nose.

The man had gone crazy. Shoving tables and throwing chairs and fists only moments before.

The worst thing about the man's tirade: he hadn't been a suspect in any crime, but had been told by the duo that his son had been killed in a drive-by shooting.

* * *

The Grissom's been called in to investigate the death of a woman found dead on the floor of her bedroom and were assaulted by the smell of roses upon entering the room.

Gil took a deep breath, "Smells like my grandmother's house when I was a child." He began opening his kit, taking samples from the body.

"I've got a bottle of **rosewater** on the vanity," Sara reported as she snapped photos of the area.

"In Asia and the Middle East, rosewater is used as a sweetener."

"I'd say she used it to cover the odor from all those cats."

* * *

"I'd like to travel to **Argentina** when we're finished with our assignment here." Grissom said as they ate their light dinner meal as the night came upon the jungle.

"You've been listening to Marco entirely too much." Sara quipped. Marco Gonzalez was the camp cook and lead botanist of the conservation effort.

"I'd like to go to Buenos Aires. He said it was cosmopolitan there. Plus their President is a woman. Surely, the feminist in you appreciates that fact."

"You do have a thing for women in power," she teased.

"But you're the only woman with power over me."

* * *

The countdown marker to the finals of the **Roller Derby** Championship of the World read '0:00' and the battle royale had begun on the oval course.

Grissom drank a soda from a paper cup as Sara screamed for her home town team the 'Bay City Rollers'. The team was combating the 'Sin City Roller Girls' and the action was intense.

Their popcorn was soon in the air when one of the San Francisco girls was checked into the crowd into Grissom's lap.

Sara would always remember the look on his face when the 200 pound blonde landed in his lap.

* * *

'_The **Beast**'_ was playing on the 'Sci-Fi' channel. They enjoyed these quiet times, hanging out together. The relationship was still platonic, but could easily progress to more, but both were happy.

"I remember this: my mother always got those 'Reader's Digest Condensed Books' and this was in it. I believe this work of Benchley's was his best but people remember him more for 'Jaws'."

"Nice movie. The actor playing Whip is hot," Sara remarked.

"Nah. He's ordinary looking."

'He looks like you when we first met."

"Was I 'hot'?"

"Still are."

The kiss didn't lead to more, it just was.

* * *

THE END

* * *

I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read or leave a review and i'd like to extend a special thanks to you guys who gave me the prompts...:)


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